


Cyanide Laced Soda

by methane_skies



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Cherri Cola is lowkey worshipped, Gen, Illiterate Character, Look Alive Sunshine, Platonic Relationships, Zones Slang (Fabulous Killjoys), they do a lotta graffitti
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methane_skies/pseuds/methane_skies
Summary: After the Fabulous Four and Ultra Vs a new group has formed in the zones, The Quartet. Consisting of Crimson Acid, Bloom Corpse, Show Ring and Friendly Void, the group is once again challenging the authority of BL/ind. They risk their lives to prove their point, collecting a fair amount of followers on the way. Yet another desert riot for freedom and revenge.





	1. Abandoned Parking Lots

The desert is vast. It's infinite for all they know. And in the middle there's a city, hell on earth. They don't live in the city, no. They'd rather die than set a foot in the whiteout streets again. The air there smells of trauma and unfulfillment and your headphones choose what you hear. Battery City, hell on earth. 

"Man I can't believe we escaped that place, just to come back after five years like: revolution bitch, you haven't had enough ouf those." Bloom Corpse laughed, her feet dangling over the edge. 

"I know right?" Friendly Void agreed. 

Their eyes were glued to the horizon where the sun was setting. Setting to blood, so vibrant. The concrete still radiated heat, the sand would've too. The sand three stories below them. Abandoned parking lots were perfect to spend the night in. 

"We should go, I think." Void said after some time, the wind was getting cold and the horizon dark. 

"Yea you're right." 

Corpse helped him get up and they walked one story down, where the rest of The Quartet were, sitting around a fire they've been keeping for some time now. Nights get cold in the desert. 

The radio was on. Show and Crimson lying beside the fire on the dirty floor greeted them with a wave. They've been talking too. A faint light that lined the flat horizon wore off. A dark scene showed through the huge smashed windows and the wind blew mercilessly cold.

Corpse and Void sat down by the fire too, listened how the radio crackled from time to time, the host's voice shifting in volume, her words poetic, encouraging the new wave of rebellion. The one they are starting. At least the one they want to start. 

"Did you two eat something?" Corpse asked. 

"Nah, not yet. Been waiting for you, I guess." answered Show, sending a short glace to the bags by the wall. 

Corpse just nodded. She looked into the fire. They were lucky enough to chop down some bushes, so they had something to burn. They wouldn't have to be this lucky in the future, hell, even tomorrow could be a bad day. 

"Corpse, you should drink something, we ain't got carbons for Vicodin." Crimson muttered towards her. 

"Vicodin? Have you ever, ever in your lifetime seen Vicodin in a gas station, Crimson? That's some fancy shit." she laughed. 

"But yea, fair enough." she then agreed as she got up and walked to the bags for a water bottle. 

They had six in total. That meant that they had enough for the rest of the week. This fact was really calming, because they had enough time to find either a vending machine or a gas station and get more water there. 

She passed the bottle to the others too. Crimson said something about how he could get absolutely blue-lined on water and was immediately advised not to do it, because that's not really efficient in the desert.

"Also I'm pretty sure that's called drowning." Void added, laughing at his own joke right after. 

The conversation didn't evolve any further after that. Mostly because they all agreed and there wasn't much to say about water anyway. There were things to say about graffitti though, so they spent the rest of their time before they went to sleep planning out their pieces for tomorrow. They've seen something while exploring the lower stories, so they agreed that it'd be nice to paint this one too. They're artists after all. 

And artists need to sleep. Just like all the nights before they took out their blankets, put out the fire and curled up on the ground really close to each other, because they didn't want to get cold. After all this time in the zones, their views had changed. Some actions and words lose intimacy and significance over time, other gain them. Mindsets change, become more essential. Dreams, nonsensical and pure in nature, fill the mind instead of nightmares. 

And then the morning comes. 

They woke up early. Their internal clock was set this way. Mainly because Draculoids get up early too and you never know when the radio announces that mum and dad are coming home. Naturally, turning on the radio was the first thing they did. They tuned it to catch a signal from the closest nest, which turned out to be the Fuck You House in Zone 6. They still haven't left Zone 6, but the good news were, that they are pretty close to a nest, where they can buy some food or water. Fortunately, there were no reports on Draculoids. They didn't have to worry for now, which meant, that they can pack their stuff in peace and then have breakfast. And maybe when they're lucky, they'll have time to paint this story, before they have to get back on the run. 

Packing was done in about ten minutes and then they ate their breakfast, one protein bar per person. They knew, that this was absolute luxury, things were going to get worse. Hopefully not too soon, but who knew what could happen. 

As they sat on the floor, eating, Void took out the map of the Zones. He looked at it for some time, he was thinking. 

"If we get this done quickly, we might get to the nest today, we'll maybe have to walk at night too tho." he then announced and looked at his friends. 

"Okay, are we gonna try?" Crimson asked immediately. 

Void shrugged, surprised by such eager reaction, and looked at Corpse and Show. 

"Are we?" he asked

"I mean, we can." Show said and hesitated for a moment before saying: "we should, shouldn't we?" 

Crimson nodded. They should. The less time they spend out in the desert the better. Maybe they could find someone with a car in the nest, that would be nice. Moving faster means less time in which they can get into a fight, less needed supplies and therefore more chance of actually eating and drinking decently. 

They all eventually agreed, that they were going to try to arrive to the nest that day. Then they got up from the ground and prepared their cans, this place was going to get revived. Baptized into the cult of self-expression and freedom. Made into a love letter from anarchy. Party Poison would be proud.


	2. Sugar Tire

The heat grew stronger as the day progressed. A need for water underlined, how dry the air was, yet it was surpressed into the backs of their heads, so they wouldn't think about it. The noon was coming with hot air quivering above the horizon. The horizon flat and distant, they had hope though. They knew where they were going. And the radio, occasionally cutting to static, followed their journey with words of encouragement and songs. Loud, careless, because if they were about to get found, silence wouldn't help them anyway. It's better to die bold, louder than god's revolver. 

The conversation was alive, it was genuine and friendly, revolving mostly around the songs playing at the moment, the Fabulous Four, Cherri Cola and all the distance ahead. Jokes and complaints too, pure disgust over Battery City, where they were heading, the racing club and why it was cool, a lot of things. There was a sense of danger lurking below all of this, deep in their chests a core, tense and alert. The fight or flight response ready to break out any moment.

They weren't safe at all. But they also weren't in any actual danger, because there still weren't any reports on Draculoids. Corpse even pointed out how weird it was, that they had been so lucky the whole time. 

"Just don't call it upon us, that would be grey as fuck." Show said, her words underlined with genuine concern.

Corpse brushed her comment off. She didn't want to think about it. The conversation suddenly dropped because of the radio. Static. A long pause in the broadcast. It felt like eternity and started bringing up the fear in their hearts. What happened? Was it just a malfunction? A little problem? Was it BLI censoring the station? Did the radio booth get ghosted? 

"Sorry for that, Joys! The waves got a little fuzzy. Our bad if that messed with your vi-" 

And static again. Loud, deafening static. Their souls once lifted dropped rapidly again. The host sounded alright, but something about how she got cut off didn't feel right. The broadcast went on again, no explanation just a song, in the middle of playing by that time. That calmed them down a little, the signal was probably just weak in that area. The event still left a sense of paranoia behind, a bad taste in their mouths, unstable heartbeats. For some reason they had to convince themselves time and time again that it was indeed just a lack of signal where they were. 

Needless to say, they didn't really want to sit down and rest for lunch. So they didn't. They kept on going. They stopped only once in the shadow of a BLI billboard, sprayed over with a bright teal spider, to catch breath and drink a little. The vibrant symobol of resistance brought a little light into their souls, lifted them. 

"I wonder who did this." Crimson said, looking up at the billboard. 

His statement was only met with nods of agreement and he, a little disappointed and still really nervous, ran his hands through his red hair, sighing deeply. They quickly packed the water back into the bags and walked out of the shadow. Sun shining into their eyes once again, bright, burning. 

The tension wore off after some time, the radio was loud again. The conversation had been revived. And with conversation comfort and appetite. 

They sat down among big rocks, after finding a good place with enough shade. The sun, now slightly angled, was still very strong and the less they were exposed to it, the better. Corpse packed out four cans for each one of them. One would expect Power Pup, but they were really lucky with food and could find some beans and corn. It was going to get worse, everyone knew that, so they enjoyed this meal the best they could. 

Once they gathered enough energy they were on the way again with a new dose of determination. It was clear, that they needed a break, because for the first time of the day, the landscape didn't seem so unfriendly and harsh. There was a specific kind of beauty to it. Shadows growing longer, light more and more golden the more they walked. The heat was becoming more and more bearable as if everything was trying to convince them, that it was all worth it. 

There was something coming from the horizon. A noise they couldn't hear just yet, but once they got just a little closer, Void turned off the radio. 

"Do you hear that?" he asked his friends. 

They stayed silent for a while, listening. Void was right. A silent hum could be heard. They walked closer and closer. Now with caution. An unknown source of noise doesn't have to be good, but the louder it was, the safer it sounded and then they realized. Music. And as the realization clicked, they spotted the source. A person somewhere in the distance, going towards them. And after that person, multiple others. 

Once the group was close enough they could see them quite clearly, the first one stopped. Put their radio, they've been carrying on one shoulder, down and pulled out a megaphone. 

"WHATCHA DOING HERE, RATS?!" then he laughed. 

"COME HERE SO I CAN SEE YOUR FACES! WELCOME TO ZONE FIVE, YOUR CLOSEST OASIS IS JUST BEYOND THE CORNER! JUST DON'T HESITATE, COME AND JOIN US"

The Quartet walked to the group, which was gathered at the road dead end. They were all wearing roller skates and the radio was playing something they didn't know. Something that sounded like it's from the beginning of time, the ancestor of all they know and love. 

"Come on, introduce yourselves, I'm Sugar Tire!" the one with the megaphone said and stretched his arms, the folds on his shirt reflecting the golden sun. 

So they did. Red-haired Crimson Acid with black jeans, fishnet sleeves under a white t-shirt and a teal bandana, Friendly Void in a violet baseball jacket, blonde dreadlocks in a ponytail and a helmet with eyes tied to his backpack. Then Show Ring, brow wavy undercut, orange t-shirt over a red-blue striped long-sleeve, LOOK ALIVE on her chest and finally Bloom Corpse, in a flannel and a vest, flowery scarf around her neck and camo pants. The Quartet, meeting Sugar Tire and the Glory.


End file.
